Maps
by andthearrowflies
Summary: Maybe she didn't help to find his friends again, but she made him coffee and forgave him, and that was all the help he needed. Ron attempts to find Harry and Hermione again after leaving them, with some added support from his sister-in-law. Because I am obsessed with friendships.


**Maps**

IT WAS EARLY.

Not that Ron hadn't woken up at the crack of dawn before. Over the past few months, many of his mornings had begun with someone gently or not so gently, depending on the day, shaking him to a state that was near consciousness as he and his makeshift family picked up the pieces and left their very temporary home. Sometimes, the sun was just barely ascending beyond the edges of the world as he shoved his clothes into a suitcase, stuffed his wand in his pocket, and helped to take down the tent. After all the work he was capable of doing somewhat proficiently was done, he'd stand to the side, yawning, waiting for the moment where they would grasp each other's hands, and disappear.

Yes, Ron had woken up early before. But this was nothing like that. For one, it was such a raw hour of the morning that it might be considered still night. It was hard to tell. It was _always_ hard to tell nowadays, and Ron felt a childish complaint rise up within him as he sat down at the kitchen table, his thumb rubbing absentmindedly against the warm coffee cup in his hand. Of course it wasn't fair. It never was.

The other aspect of this early rising that made it so unnatural was that he was alone. There hadn't been many times in his life where Ron had gotten up before the sun was high in the sky by his own will. And never before had it felt this uncomfortable, this cold. He kept reminding himself to be quiet, to not wake anyone. There was no one to whisper a gentle request for the sugar, or to make small-talk with for the sake of staying awake. The only sound was the surf in the distance, and of course his own awkward, misguided shuffling.

But it had to be this way, he reminded himself fiercely as took a sip of the coffee, which he hadn't been able to find the sugar for and was grossly bitter, and unrolled the map that was in his pocket and laid it on the table. He couldn't work on this horribly important project during the day; his brother would see it, and worse, his brother's wife would see it. He couldn't bear to see the look on their faces as they watched him struggle, a look comprised of many quick, guilty glances.

It had to be this way. He pulled the Deluminator out and clicked it open, watching as the light flew up to the ceiling. Bill was a deep sleeper, and hopefully, Fleur was too. They wouldn't react to a few lights. Stolen lights, from a tent...

Ron grabbed the quill lying on the table and began to work.

It was a slow, painful process. He had to search deep within his memory, deep within all of his limited knowledge of geography, and then figure out where exactly they had already been. Some places were easy to cross out on the map, places he'd remember for fights or hugs or simple conversations. And then others were hard, more elusive… where exactly was that tree with the strange branch that looked like an angry fist, the one he'd pointed out to his best friend as a joke?

He was also searching through someone else's memory. Ron racked his brains to remember every and any insignificant little story Hermione had told him, places she'd been, places she wanted to go. With a grim sense of satisfaction he was able to circle an area called Kenneth Woods on the map, where Hermione had lost her favorite book as a child. On the side of the map, he scribbled_ the meadow near Wendell Books_; he had a vague memory of Hermione telling him that on her first summer back from Hogwarts, her father had taken her to that bookstore, and they'd had a picnic, although Ron had no idea what town this had taken place in… Goddamnit, why hadn't he paid more attention?

Because, now, he was stuck here, at his brother's house, with no way to get back to the people he really needed, and maybe they needed him too. He didn't want to be selfish, but hopefully they needed him too. Maybe Harry would contact him, and he would be able to forgive him, and Hermione would -

"Ron?" He jumped as the lights in the kitchen were suddenly turned on, making his lights useless. Fleur was standing in the doorway, looking confused. "Eez everything okay?"

"Ah - yes," he said, standing up, hastily folding the map. He stumbled up, shoving the chair back towards the table. "I was just, uh… I'm going to bed…"

"Please, it eez okay," said Fleur quickly. "I do not mind." Ron hesitated, and then unfolded the map, lying it once again flat on the table. Fleur walked over and helped him flatten it. His ears reddened; just the thing Ron had been hoping to avoid. His sister-in-law seeing his pathetic, miserable attempts to try to slink back to the very people he had abandoned.

"Thanks," he muttered, not meeting her eyes. She didn't seem bothered, picking up his coffee cup and even taking a small sip. She wrinkled a nose.

"Zis - what eez zis?" she demanded. "Ron, eez zhere any sugar in zis? Or cream?"

"I take my coffee black," he lied, too embarrassed to admit he'd floundered about in the kitchen for several minutes before finally giving up on having decent coffee.

"No, you do not," she said decidedly. "I will make you coffee, good coffee." She whisked his coffee away to the sink, where she poured it all down the drain. Ron sighed and sat down again, going back to the map.

"Where's Bill?" he asked her. He could deal with Fleur, he supposed; true, she had been furious with him for abandoning his friends, and had been unable to look at him the first few days, but she was only his sister-in-law. In the end, they weren't really related. But if Bill was awake, for some inexplicable reason, he would have to get out of there, fast. Bill was his oldest brother, the hero of his childhood. The disappointment he'd seen on his brother's face when he had first arrived at Shell Cottage was enough. He didn't need Bill to be reminded of why Ron was such a failure.

"Asleep," came her reply. Ron's shoulders sagged with relief, and he continued on the map. He marked an x by Oxford - they'd stopped there in September, he thought.

"Why are you up?"

Fleur didn't reply, and Ron looked over his shoulder to see her shrug. "Honestly, I do not know. Zis eez new for me. Usually, I sleep late." She blew her hair out of her face. "I… I do not know." She hesitated. "I've been 'aving bad dreams. I 'ave not seen my sister since the wedding. I've received word from my mother that they are safe, but… I worry."

Ron nodded, sympathetic (he was no stranger to nightmares), but not knowing what else to say. All the conversations he'd really had with her had either been extremely one-sided or meaningless. He'd never been sure how to act around this perfect woman, this goddess whom he'd once lusted over and by accident had somehow become his sister-in-law. Was he supposed to treat her like he treated Ginny or how he'd treat a guest? What was she, really, to him? His brother's wife? A past romance? Everything about her confused him.

A thud on the table. Ron glanced up at the mug near the map, and then at Fleur, who was staring at him with an expectant look on her face. Slowly, he reached out and grasped the mug in his hand, and then took a slow sip. The warmth of the liquid seeped through his tongue, through his mouth, through his body, spreading the taste, the feel of cinnamon and vanilla, of beachside cottages and glass windchimes throughout his body. Without thinking, he smiled.

"This is amazing," he told her, and Fleur grinned victoriously, flipping her blond hair over her shoulder. "Top marks for you."

"Zank you, zank you," she said, bowing to an invisible screaming crowd. "I shall be here all week." Ron laughed loudly at her gentle silliness without thinking, and both suddenly jumped as a loud snore came from the other room. The kitchen was quiet and tense once again as they waited for the moment to pass. Suppose Bill woke up? Ron was reminded of his map, his miserable excuse of an apology.

"Why are you avoiding Bill?" asked Fleur when the moment had passed and it was clear his brother wouldn't be waking up at any point soon. She sat down in the chair across from him, pulling her thin wrap tighter around her shoulders.

"Ah… erm, well…" Ron took another sip of coffee, glancing at Fleur. If she was reminded of why he was here, would she stop talking to him again? "I… well, I didn't want Bill to see me with the map, and I…"

"A map of what?" interrupted Fleur, though it was not a rude sort of interruption. Instead, she was interested in what he had to say, and wanted him to clarify so she could understand it better.

"Of all the places that… that we stayed," muttered Ron. There was no need to clarify who 'we' was. Fleur gave a little "ah!" of understanding, but other than that was quiet as she waited for him to finish.

"I… I figure if I can eliminate everywhere we've already been, I'll have a better guess at knowing where they are now." The word _they_ cut into his side like a thorn but he ignored it. "Hermione… she used to pick random places she'd been with her parents, or as a kid, just memories to stay… and I'm circling all those places, because those are the places where they're most likely to be at, and when I've got it all figured out, I'm gonna go to those places, and I dunno, just wait I guess…" he trailed off lamely.

"But why -"

"Look, Bill is already disappointed in me enough," he said, his tone suddenly harsh. "I don't need him seeing how much of an idiot I am, because here I am stumbling about in the dark, trying to go back to the people I abandoned like some scumbag, because I got _jealous_, not her fault that she didn't, that we… and I -" He cut himself off, rapidly blinking. His chest was throbbing like a wound under a bandage. This was the first time he'd spoken about why he had left. Ron turned away from Fleur. She was quiet. The sound of the surf became dominant once again.

"I never 'ad many friends," said Fleur suddenly. Ron, confused by the change of topic, was tricked into looking back at her. She was quiet, staring off into space as she drummed her fingers on the table.

"Sorry?" he asked, his voice hoarse.

"Girl friends, anyway. Men 'ave always liked me. Do not pretend you do not know what I am speaking of, Ron." He had looked down in embarrassment. "I am part Veela, zere eez nothing I can do to change zat. But women 'ave always resented me for ze attention I get, and so I 'ad few friends growing up."

"Sorry," said Ron again, this time with a different meaning. A few years ago, he had never imaged it was possible to feel pity and sympathy for someone as glorious as Fleur.

Fleur shrugged, as suave and collected as ever. "What I am trying to say eez zat I was not surprised zat Ginny was annoyed I was staying with your family, because I 'ad known of 'er infatuation with 'Arry Potter before. But I surprised to see that 'Ermione was bothered as well. And it was not because of 'Arry."

Ron choked. "That's not - she didn't even, you - that - "

"Ron." Fleur raised an eyebrow and he lost his will to argue with her. "All I am saying eez that 'Ermione cares about you very much. Maybe more than you realise. She would not let you walk out of 'er life like that. And 'Arry too. You think you 'ave six brothers, but the truth eez you 'ave seven. And brothers do not stop being brothers, Ron."

"I am sorry zat I did not speak to you when you first arrived here," said Fleur firmly. He blinked, surprised. "I was worried, terrified really, for 'Arry and 'Ermione, and because of zat I was angry. But zat has passed. And zis struggle of yours, it will pass too. You are not a scumbag or an idiot, and Bill eez not ashamed of you. Bill loves you," she insisted fiercely, grabbing his hand in an unexpected sign of affection. "And he zinks ze world of you."

"I could see it in his face, when I arrived, he -"

"He was surprised, yes," admitted Fleur. "As was I. We were confused, because you are not the type to abandon your friends. And you have not. You zink Bill does not know? Bill knows you have not given up on your friends, Ron."

"He… he what?" He stared at her. Had Bill known this entire time, all the times Ron had secretly worked on his map?

Fleur smiled gently. "Bill eez not an idiot either, Ron." She patted his hand, and then stood up, stretching. "I zink I'll be able to fall asleep now. Zank you.

"For what?" muttered Ron

"I stopped worrying, for at least a few minutes," she said. She picked up his coffee cup; it had turned cold and was no longer drinkable, no matter how amazing the actual taste was.

"I am going back to bed," Fleur told him. "And I zink you should too." She cast a pointed glance at the map. "Zat will still be zere in the morning."

"But -"

"But nothing," said Fleur firmly. "When it eez a normal hour of the day, both Bill and I will 'elp you."

For a moment, Ron considered assuring her that he didn't help, that he was better off on his own anyway. That Bill and Fleur didn't really know what was he going for, that he had to do it alone.

And then he decided to be honest, for once. If he'd been honest a month ago, instead of sulking around the tent, maybe things would be different…

"Thank you," said Ron, struggling to think of something better, something more meaningful to say to… his sister, his ex-crush? "I just… what you said, it, uh…."

His _friend_. "I - just, thank you." It was enough. She knew.

* * *

_So, I wrote this like three months ago, and I totally forgot I wrote this. I really love Fleur intensely, and I was also curious about her and Ron's relationship, because we never really got to see how they treated each other as siblings-in-law, so I decided to explore that._

_Also i like the idea of Ron actively trying to predict where Hermione would go next. _

_As always, review with what you thought (I'm in such a rut right now I need some ideas/constructive criticism helpp)_

_Thanks lovelies!_


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